


pillows

by forestofbabel



Series: "I Voted" Drabble Gifts [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 23:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16586645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forestofbabel/pseuds/forestofbabel
Summary: It’s not about the couch, you dingus





	pillows

**Author's Note:**

> written for my _I Voted_ promotion  
> for

Stiles was over at the loft again. He’d been crashing a lot recently. Ever since he moved back to town Stiles hadn’t been wanting to stay at his dad’s place. It made sense. Stiles was an adult. His dad was in a relationship, something a bit newer but a lot serious. Derek got it. Not exactly the place Stiles wanted to be.

What he didn’t get was why Stiles was coming  _here_. Scott had his own place. So did Lydia. Derek hadn’t asked. He… he didn’t want Stiles to think that Derek was trying to kick him out.

Derek padded down the stairs, already barefoot and changed into pjs. It was later than Stiles normally showed up, if he was going to.

“Hey.”

Stiles whipped his head up. He’d grown up, but hadn’t grown out of his striking resemblance of a frightened deer who hadn’t quite learned how to walk yet. “Oh! Hey. What’s up. Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It’s barely midnight. Hadn’t gotten to sleep yet.”

He leaned over the back of the couch and looked down at Stiles. “You want something to eat?”

“Oh, man, yeah, I forgot dinner.”

Derek huffed, amused and totally unsurprised. “You’re hopeless. Come on.” He headed to the kitchen to put together a couple of sandwiches. “You doing alright?” He asked as Stiles sat at the counter. He looked nervous, distracted.

“Hmm? Oh! Yeah. Yeah. I’ve just.” Stiles waved a hand in front of his face, a bit too wildly. “Stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Stuff. Things. Big dramatic speech in a zombie apocalypse.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Meme. Old one. Just.” Stiles let out a long sigh, with lots of noises and blowing his lips together at the end. He was acting a little late-night-loopy. The kind that had nothing to do with drugs or alcohol, just good old stress and sleep deprivation. “I’m jealous of my dad.”

“You… you want to date Miss -“

“What? No! Get your mind away from there.” Stiles did a full body shudder and a face that looked a lot like he just ate a fistful of mold. “It’s like. I’m jealous  _that_ he’s dating. That he  _has_  someone to come home to. And like, maybe I wouldn’t if it were mom but the fact my dad’s got game is kind of cramping my style.”

“So…” Derek tried to deconstruct what Stiles just said as he finished spreading jelly on his second slice of bread. “You’re annoyed that your roommate has a significant other because you don’t.”

“Now that just sounds petty and dumb.”

“And saying you’re jealous of your dad sounds..?” Derek prompted, closing the peanut butter side on top of the jelly.

“Oh, shut up. But like. You get what I mean, right?”

“Your biological clock is ticking and you want babies now.” He set the pb&j in front of Stiles and picked up his own.

“I- what? That. Is that a quote from something?” The oddity of Derek’s statement seemed to have short circuited Stiles’ brain.

Derek nodded as he chewed through his first bite. “Uh, yeah. A… a, um, Shakespeare parody play.”

The  _Error 404_  face melted into the kind of look Stiles normally reserved for baby animals. “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

“Says the guy who still plays fantasy RPGs despite living in one.”

Stiles jabbed a finger in Derek’s direction as he picked up his sandwich. “Hey. That’s my online family and I’ve known them since before you so show some respect.” He then tore a bite out of the pb&j and managed to chew mock-threateningly.

Derek rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “You could always try dating.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

Derek shrugged. “Someone who can stand you for more than an hour at a time.”

“Well that severely shortens the list.”

Derek snorted. “Someone you also like.”

“I have very few options now.”

Derek nodded. “And someone who is also single. I think those are some good key factors.”

“Yeaaaaaah,” Stiles agreed before popping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “But I can only think of one person who fits all three criteria,” Stiles continued around his food. Derek scrunched his nose at it, but didn’t comment. “And I’m not positive they actually pass number one.”

“Yeah?” Derek asked, maybe a little too casually. Stiles always claimed that he had decoded Derek’s eyebrows and could read him like a book, but Derek thought he was pretty good and translating all of Stiles’ wild faces and ticks and twitches. “Who is it? Maybe I can let you know.”

Stiles had been wiping his hands with a paper napkin and tossed it at Derek’s head.

“I was going to crash at Lydia’s tonight.”

“Lydia doesn’t pass number three, not number one,” Derek pointed out.

“Haha let me finish, jackass.” Stiles stretched his arms above his head, the hem of his shirt riding up enough to expose the dark hair of his happy trail. “I was going to crash at Lydia’s but it’s like. I used to, when I was a kid, I used to not be able to sleep unless I had  _my_  pillow. Sleepovers, hotels, camps, long car rides, whatever, I needed my pillow or I couldn’t sleeep. And I grew out of that. But like, recently I haven’t been able to get to sleep because… not because of a pillow but kind of like what that pillow represented. Home. Safety. L-lo-“ Stiles clamped his mouth shut with a hard clack of his teeth. “Lots of things. Whatever. Just. I can’t sleep at Lydia’s. I can’t even sleep in my own bedroom anymore. Because.” Stiles sighed and ran a hand over his eyes and then kept them there, as if it was easier to talk if he couldn’t see Derek. “Because the only place I feel like I have my pillow is here.”

Derek blinked. Stiles had just spit out a lot and was still covering his eyes. If Derek hear what he thought he had just heard then…

“My couch isn’t that comfortable.”

Stiles groaned. He sounded like he was at his wits end. “It’s not about the couch, you dingus!” Stiles whipped his head up, about to yell something, when Derek cut him off.

“You can try the bed tonight.”

Stiles froze. _Error 404_ all over again. Then he sputtered back to life with a squeaky sound of disbelief. “Did. Did you just? Was that a fucking  _line_.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Derek said calmly, knowing he wasn’t doing a good job of keeping the smile out of his voice. He wiped down the counter for crumbs and then started heading to the stairs.

“Just. Just hold on a second I have one question to ask you.”

Derek turned, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, just to mess with him. “Yes?”

“Can you stand me for more than an hour at a time?”

He couldn’t help it. Stiles liked him. They’d been dancing around this for weeks and neither of them had noticed. Derek smiled. “I have that kind of stamina,” he said, winking.

He turned and started up the stairs, reveling in the sound of Stiles almost falling off the stool. “You conniving little ass!”

Derek turned, halfway to the bedroom. “Are you coming?”

Stiles had never moved so fast.

They just slept that night. Derek had never been happier to be someone’s pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
